Promises
by ElfFlame
Summary: Harry's preparing for a special night for the two of them, but Draco knows he's up to something.


**A/N**: I wrote some more Drabbles for my friends for Xmas this year, so I thought I'd share them with everyone.

This one was for Catrinella and Fiona Fawkes. Catrinella wanted Harry/Draco and arguing over who has to top, and Fiona added fluffy fighting and a reference to Harry doing something cat-like.

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

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Promises**

By Elfflame

"You look like the cat that's just gotten into the cream, Potter. What are you up to?" Harry had been skulking around the house all afternoon, and Draco knew he was up to something, but he really couldn't figure out what. It was the new moon, so he wasn't going to try to sneak the Werewolf into their basement. His friends had been over only the night before, so Draco knew that couldn't be it. And his birthday and Christmas were both still months away.

Harry grinned at him. "Nothing, Draco. I promised you a special evening for allowing me to invite over Ron and Hermione, right?"

"Right," Draco said cautiously.

"So, I'm just making sure everything's prepared."

"What needs preparing, Potter?"

Harry flushed, and Draco narrowed his eyes. Harry was obviously trying to get away with something. "Just the usual…" Harry said with a coy look.

Draco pursed his lips. "And what, pray tell, would the usual be, Potter?"

"Oh, you know, the usual… delivery for supper, candles, lube…"

The list didn't sound off, but there was a hitch to Harry's voice when he said the word "lube" that made Draco suspicious. He pulled Harry closer, and whispered in his ear, "I hope you got the right pot this time, Potter. I don't fancy stinging down there again for a week."

Harry blushed, but didn't meet his eyes. "Don't worry, Draco. I promise that won't happen this time."

"Harry, look at me." He didn't trust the fact that Harry couldn't quite meet his gaze, even now. "What's going on?" he managed in his mildest tone.

Even so, Harry winced. "I thought—well, I thought maybe we could try something different," he said, finally looking up to meet Draco's gaze.

"Different how, Harry?" he asked, now sure that Harry was up to something.

"Well, I thought maybe you could top tonight…"

There was a long silence, before Draco found his voice. "What? I thought we agreed, Potter. I'm the bottom in this relationship."

Harry scowled. "Well, maybe I'm sick of topping. Ever thought of that? I mean, the one time we tried it the other way—"

"Was horrible. I hated it. You had to pull me off after, remember?"

"Come on, Draco. It wasn't that bad, was it?"

Draco sighed. "Oh, all right. But what do you expect? I'd never done it before."

"And I told you, Draco. It wasn't that big a deal. So you were a bit—premature—going in. It still felt bloody fabulous."

"To you, maybe. It was bloody awful for me."

"Please, Draco?" Harry whined. "I promise I'll make it up to you…

"I thought that's why we were having a special night tonight, Potter, to make up for having to put up with those friends of yours _last _night."

"Dray-coh…"

"That's not going to work, Potter," Draco said, pulling away from Harry before he had to listen to more whining. But Harry seemed to have given up on that. His hands had now snuck under Draco's armpits, and were poking and prodding him there. "Harry…"

"Yes, Draco?" he said with a slight smile.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it feel like?"

"You're poking me. Why are you poking me?"

Harry sighed, and his hands fell to his sides. "I wasn't poking you. I was tickling you."

Draco stared at him for a long moment. "Tickling? Potter…I'm not ticklish. At least not there." He pulled Harry to him, and before Harry could pull away, Draco began to attack him with his fingers, particularly in the places he knew Harry was most sensitive.

"Draco…Please…Stop!" Harry managed through his laughter.

"Not until you tell me that I'm not topping tonight, Potter."

"But…Draco…" Harry whined through his giggles, collapsed against Draco's chest and writhing there really quite nicely.

"No, Potter. I won't. Now, tell me you give up, and I'll stop, and then we'll go upstairs and make sure that the lube is the right stuff this time."

Harry was snerfling through his nose, now, and had Draco not had one hand under his arm, he probably would have collapsed to the floor. "Fine!" he managed after another few writhes, and Draco stilled his fingers.

"You're topping?"

Green eyes, glistening with tears from the laughter looked up to meet his. "Tonight. But I will remember this, Draco. I expect you to top sometime soon."

Draco raised his chin and smirked. "Of course I will, Potter." He moved to the staircase, leading the way upstairs as he said under his breath, "On your birthday…"

But Harry's sharp ears had obviously heard him. "Dray-coh…"

_Fin_


End file.
